


a dream i can reach (but not quite hold)

by four alarm fire (gaymergirl)



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25230595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaymergirl/pseuds/four%20alarm%20fire
Summary: What was it Catra joked about the other day?Betrayal._____(A soulmate AU where everyone gets a tattoo except Adora.)
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 60
Kudos: 667
Collections: Shera





	a dream i can reach (but not quite hold)

At sixteen, Catra finds Adora lying down on their lookout, watching the clouds. Even after the sun sets in the Fright Zone, it leaves the sky a dusty red. It's hazy and polluted, but it's home.

Catra's reluctant to disturb her, they don't get a lot of privacy in the Horde. They sleep in the same quarters with the other cadets, eat together, train together. But it's almost dinnertime. If they're late, Shadow Weaver will blame Catra, the way she does for everything. 

"Hey, Adora," Catra says.

Adora sits up. "Hey, yourself." She tilts her head. "I didn't miss dinner, did I?" 

"Not yet," Catra answers. Adora loses the tension in her shoulders, exhaling in relief. 

"Sit with me?" Adora offers, patting the space next to her. Catra considers saying that there's not much time. Instead, she joins her, she can't resist. They sit in amiable silence, and the sky gradually grows redder. 

"What do you think about, when you're out here?" Catra asks. It's something she's been wondering. Adora's been quieter lately, coming here on her own. She never seems to mind when Catra joins her, but she worries about bothering her anyway.

"Promise you won't tell anyone? It's silly."

Catra perks an eyebrow, but she promises. Things with Adora are often silly. 

Adora doesn't tell her right away. She hums and fidgets with her hands. "Stars," Adora eventually says, her voice barely a whisper, as if the word is magic. Not a bad magic, like the kind the princesses have, but a good kind, if such a thing exists. 

"What are stars, exactly?" Catra asks.

“They’re in the sky, like the moons, but they’re smaller and brighter. They’re pretty," Adora pauses. "I've, uh, had dreams about them before."

Catra's pretty convinced Adora is making them up, but she goes along with it, eager to hear more. She likes the way Adora's eyes have lit up, as if she's speaking stars into existence.

The Horde says it's a weakness to get soft like this, it's something the two of them have reserved for each other. It doesn't happen often, so when it does, Catra savors every second. Besides, she doesn't want to be the reason Adora stops smiling. 

"Sorry," Adora apologizes, even though she doesn't have to. "I know it doesn't make sense." 

"Hey, it's probably too polluted here for stars," Catra points out. "It might not be like this all over Etheria. If they're out there, maybe we'll find them someday, once we finally get the chance to leave the Fright Zone." Adora beams at her. Catra averts her eyes, the way she always does when Adora looks at her like _that_. 

"Besides," Catra adds, "stars sound a lot nicer than soulmate tattoos." She lies down. Adora does too. The steel against her back is hard and cool, nothing Catra isn't used to.

Earlier that afternoon Lonnie had told them about the tattoos. Catra didn't buy it, the whole concept of being destined for someone sounded ridiculous. And getting permanently marked for it? Forget it. She thought even Lonnie must have a bigger imagination than that.

"Yeah, there's no way the tattoos are actually real." Adora sounds as if she's trying to reassure herself. She rolls on her side to face Catra, propping herself up on her elbow. "I mean, you turn nineteen, and a princess just finds you? And burns someone's name onto your skin? How does that work?"

"It doesn't," Catra laughs, turning to look at Adora. "Lonnie's just making it up. 'I overheard Shadow Weaver talking to Lord Hordak.' Please," Catra rolls her eyes. "As if any of us could overhear Shadow Weaver and not get in trouble for it. Believe me, I've tried." Adora just stares, pale blue eyes full of concern. "Don't look at me like that, I'm getting better at not getting caught."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Adora says, reaching out to put her hand on Catra's.

 _Don't get too comfortable,_ Catra pleads to herself, a reminder that never works. Her purrs are involuntary, they always are. Catra wishes she could shut them off, it's embarrassing, especially when Adora looks surprised every time, as if she's _never_ heard Catra purr in her entire life. Only, Adora doesn't looked shocked, she looks a little shy. She squeezes Catra's hand, not saying anything. Eventually Catra stops purring. She knows this won't last long, Adora can never stay relaxed. And they're definitely going to be late for dinner. 

But it's worth it. 

Catra doesn't sleep that night till she hears Adora's steady breathing coming from the bunk beneath her. If Adora dreams about stars, Catra wants to dream about them too. Surely they'd be less frightening than bots and lasers and shadows.

* * *

Adora is eighteen when she sees a glimpse of the stars. The sky is lilac, glittering with starlight. They're not real, she knows Madame Razz set off this hologram somehow. 

“What happened to the stars?” Razz asks, mistaking her for Mara. 

Adora wishes she could answer, it seems _important_. 

“I’ve seen them before. I know all of this somehow,” Adora confides, trying to remember. Yes, she's _dreamed_ of them before, but surely dreams can't count as memory. She had even told Catra about them once, and she knew Catra didn't actually believe her. Catra had suggested that they didn't exist in the Fright Zone, Adora was convinced she just wanted to make her feel better.

And then she sees _flashes_ of moments, she can’t process them. She’s never left the Fright Zone till last week, so how could she be seeing these other places? An icy world, a desert, and space, maybe? It’s terrifyingly strange. Razz had called her afraid earlier, and perhaps she is. She's alone in this. Bow and Glimmer have faith in her, but they don't know her, not really. She left everyone and everything she knew in the Horde so recklessly. And then there's Catra. Adora can't stop picturing her eyes: blue and yellow and afraid, as soon as she realized what Adora was.

What was it Catra joked about the other day?

_Betrayal._

"You should've seen your face," Catra had said. 

Adora wonders what Catra would say _now_ to all of this. She didn't have the chance to explain She-Ra before she transformed. Adora had been so caught up with the atrocities of the Horde, alarmed to find out Catra didn't care. That Catra knew and chose to stay with them anyway. Adora's newfound abilities didn't seem so important then.

Part of Adora wishes she let Catra come with her, going into the Whispering Woods by herself was so stupid- she sees that now. She knows on a practical level that she can't go back, though that doesn't stop her from wishing that she could. Things would be so much simpler without She-Ra and holograms and visions. 

"What's happening to me?" she asks out loud, despite knowing that Razz doesn't have an answer for her. Adora wonders if it's possible that somehow, Razz is lost the same way she is.

The hologram fades, taking the remnants of stars with it. Adora silently pleads for them to stay, if only a minute longer. It had been a bittersweet sensation, to see them glow in such familiar way, even if they were illusory. 

Razz insists that they return to her cottage, so she follows. It doesn't matter if Razz doesn't have any intelligible answers. She's getting close to something; she can feel it. She has to make leaving the Horde worth it. She hopes Catra will understand someday. Perhaps she could even bring Catra to this place, and set the hologram off again, to show her that though the stars may be gone now, they once were here.

The next time Adora sees the stars, she's nineteen and indoors. Lance and George project them. She smiles, feeling like a kid. It's a relief to see them: bright and dazzling. Adora watches as Glimmer and Bow look up in awe. She secretly wishes Catra were here too, despite suspecting that she wouldn't be impressed. But Catra's not here, she should be the furthest thing from her mind.

“We think Serenia is connected to the tattoos,” Lance says, “though we’re not quite sure how.”

“Thankfully the tattoos aren't written in First Ones' sigils, can you imagine?” George laughs. “Not being able to read your soulmate’s name? I wouldn't have been able to decipher 'Lance,' when I was nineteen.”

Everyone else laughs at this, but Adora doesn’t get it. 

“Wait," Adora fake coughs, "soulmate tattoos are real?” she asks, intentionally mispronouncing "soul."

“Ha, good one, Adora,” Bow says.

Adora struggles to keep her panic to herself. She was certain they were made up, even _Catra_ thought so. Adora had turned nineteen a few weeks ago, and there was nothing new on her skin. 

Adora privately asks Bow about the tattoos that evening. "Please, tell me everything." She hopes he can't pick up on her desperation.

"You know," Bow says, raising his eyebrows once he starts to comprehend that _no_ , Adora does not know. "Your soulmate is the person meant for you. Their name is on your wrist when you turn nineteen. Both my dads have each other's names."

"Yeah, because _that_ makes sense,” Adora nearly snaps. She rolls up her sleeves, showing him both her wrists. “Is this a joke? I turned nineteen this year.” 

After contemplating her blank wrists for a few seconds, he gently asks, "Did you really not know?"

Adora shakes her head, feeling self-conscious of her bare and unmarked skin. "I thought that it was made-up princess stuff, you know, to scare us." 

"Maybe She-Ra..." Bow trails off, realizing the implication of his words. 

“Maybe She-Ra doesn’t get a soulmate,” Adora finishes for him, trying to sound less bitter than she feels. It’s not _Bow’s_ fault. His eyes are full of worry. “Hey, it’s _fine._ Not everyone has to end up with someone. I didn’t even know soulmates were actually a thing till today. I've got you, and Glimmer, and everyone in the Rebellion." She offers him a fake smile; he offers her a genuine one. 

She's got more important things to worry about anyway, she reasons. Like the message on Mara's ship, defeating the Horde, and her She-Ra training. She hugs Bow, thanks him for explaining the tattoos, and tells him goodnight.

In her Bright Moon bedroom, she listens to the waterfall. It's louder than sleeping in the Horde had ever been, even louder than Rogelio's snores. She never thought someone's snoring would be something she'd miss.

Hours pass, and Adora still can't sleep. She recalls when Lonnie told them about the tattoos, Adora had carefully watched Catra's expression, her heterochromatic eyes bored and uninterested. Adora hadn't felt that way, it didn't sound all bad. _If they're real_ , she had thought, with flutters in her stomach, _I want it to be you_.

It's painful to think about. Even if she did have Catra's name on her wrist, she can't imagine that it would make a difference. Catra wouldn't join her before, and Adora's certain that she wouldn't join her now, tattoo or otherwise. 

* * *

Despite Catra's best efforts (seriously, what else could she possibly do to get Scorpia to leave her alone?) Scorpia keeps visiting her cell. Catra doesn't care for the updates, she cares about the fact that she's locked up and Hordak is still out there determining her punishment. So what if Kyle broke something again and Lonnie turned nineteen-

"Oh, and you'll never guess this," Scorpia says with her regular enthusiasm, "Lonnie has not one, but _two_ tattoos! You ever hear about such a thing? I told her I didn't believe her, but she _showed_ me, because, you know, we're such good friends. And boy, I'm sworn to secrecy but if you really wanna know who-"

"Lonnie has two _what_?" Catra nearly hisses.

"Tattoos," Scorpia says, "you know, you turn nineteen and-"

"I get it," Catra snaps, and calls for a guard to escort Scorpia out. 

Soulmate tattoos are real, and Adora has been nineteen for months now. The realization leaves her mouth dry. She probably learned the truth the hard way, waking up one morning to find out Lonnie wasn't full of it after all. Catra suspects the princesses have an over the top celebration for birthdays. It's never been like that in the Horde, where birthdays are just a mark of survival.

It makes her head spin; she's never thought too hard about soulmates. Why would they have mattered before, when she already had Adora by her side? They promised to look after each other, and that promise felt more sacred than anything some princess could conjure. Now she's not so certain. How could she still want someone who left her behind? _Does_ she still want someone who left her behind?

Catra scratches the wall in her frustration. The sound of her claws against the steel is always unpleasant, but it helps her focus. She scratches again, intent on sharpening her nails. She has a hunch she's getting out of the cell soon, and she needs to be ready.

With Adora held prisoner in the Crimson Waste, Catra _finally_ has her alone. It may be her only chance to talk to Adora about the tattoos without anyone else listening.

“Happy late Birthday, by the way,” Catra says, trying her best to sound nonchalant. “Nineteen is _such_ a special number after all.” Adora doesn't reply, so Catra turns away, facing the door. "Do you know her? Is she a princess too? Or is she some damsel in distress you saved?" Catra wishes she hadn't given too much thought in who Adora's soulmate could be, but here she is, swinging Adora's sword in the air.

Adora remains silent. Catra turns back to face her, and blinks in surprise. Catra had counted on striking a nerve in her, but she didn't anticipate Adora's defeated look. Adora doesn't give up, it's never been in her nature. For half a second Catra hopes that Adora’s silence means that somehow _her_ name is inscribed on Adora’s wrist. “So tell me, Adora, who is she?”

“I don’t have one,” Adora confesses. Catra can tell she's trying to sound braver than she feels. 

“You’ve always been an awful liar,” Catra drawls. “ _Everyone_ has one.”

“Well I _don’t_ ,” Adora insists. “Look for yourself if you don’t believe me.” 

Catra freezes. Adora is either making a poor attempt to set herself free, or she's telling the truth. Either way, Catra's scared to touch her. Catra makes eye contact. "You're serious," she says, and Adora nods, giving her permission. Adora fixes her eyes on the ground. Catra steps closer. There's a reason she's gone eighteen years without seeing a tattoo, and it's not just because she grew up in the Horde. She knows looking at someone's tattoos is supposed to be intimate, which is dumb because they're cosmically ordained. Catra wonders why they appear at the wrist, instead of a more private place. 

Crouching behind her, she rolls up Adora's right sleeve first, and then her left. She sucks in a strangled breath when she sees Adora isn't lying, both wrists are blank. She nearly drops the sword. She walks in front of Adora, bewildered, jaw clenched. Adora not having a name at all is worse than Adora having another girl's name. 

“Happy now?” Adora asks, glaring up at her. Catra's not happy, but she refuses to let Adora know it.

Catra shrugs one shoulder in response. “Must be something wrong with you.” Catra's startled by the sharpness in her own voice. "Look, uh, I didn't mean that-"

It cracks Adora up. It shouldn't. She looks ridiculous, tied up and laughing, blonde hair sticking out of her ponytail, framing her face. 

"What are you laughing at?" Catra scowls, wincing at how high pitched her voice is. It takes her a moment to register that this is Adora's laugh of frustration. She hasn't heard it in a long time. Or any laugh of Adora's, for that matter.

"No one else will say it," Adora explains ruefully. "Do you have any idea how annoying it is, when people find out? Glimmer got out a magnifying glass one day to see if somehow it was just _really_ small. And everyone is way more freaked out by me not having a tattoo than they are by me being a First One."

"Well, duh," Catra says. "You've got that thing with the sword, it's First Ones' tech, right? If you're the only one who can use it, it makes sense you're descended from them."

"No, I'm a First One- present tense. The Horde stole me through a portal when I was a baby." Adora's voice grows smaller, like she's trying not to cry, "I don't know where I come from."

And that's when it hits her: Adora had never been abandoned at all. She was _taken_. She once had a family who _wanted_ her. Adora's eyes are wet. Catra wonders how long she's known, and if her new friends even understand the weight of it. Adora had grown up the same way she did, being told they would both be dead if the Horde hadn't taken them in. It might have been true for Catra, but it was never true for Adora. Catra can't fathom it. 

Catra sits down and sets the sword aside. "Maybe it means there's nothing wrong with you," she says softly. Adora's eyes meet hers, and Catra can't stand it, the way Adora hasn't lost hope in her. How Adora looks at her like she's still worth something to her, as if a single glance will convince her to switch sides. Adora's gaze has always been warm, and Catra still burns from it.

"The tattoos are probably just an Etherian thing," Catra continues. "They might not have soulmates where you come from, or they don't get discovered through something as dramatic as tattoos."

Adora looks stunned by this possibility. "Do you really think so?" she whispers. 

Catra smiles at her and for a moment: they're friends. Catra clings to this. 

"Catra," Adora says, sounding more like herself, "you can't open the portal." All goodwill shatters between them: they're enemies again, in a war. Since She-Ra came into the picture, Adora always has to ruin it.

"Why not?" Catra asks, grabbing the sword and standing up. "Wouldn't you want that? Once we gain portal capabilities you can get out of here, go back to where you're from. You had no problem leaving _me_ , and the Fright Zone. Why would you care about leaving Etheria behind?"

Catra hears the way Adora's breath hitches, and she knows she crossed a line. But she won't take it back, so she turns around, and storms out.

* * *

When a guard in the Fright Zone calls Catra a twerp, Adora shows him her left wrist, and then points to her Force Captain badge. "Back off," she commands. He does, stammering several apologies. As soon as he walks away, she and Catra burst out laughing.

“Wow, who knew being someone’s dumb soulmate could be so convenient?” Catra jokes. 

“Please, you love taking advantage of it,” Adora says, staring at the tattoo: _Catra_ inked in black cursive. It looks _right_ , almost shiny with newness. But Adora's had it for months now, right? For a second, _Catra_ flickers away, leaving her wrist bare and lonely. Adora blinks, and it’s back where it belongs. She must've imagined it, tattoos can't disappear. 

“Just wait till it’s your birthday and you get my name,” Adora says. “Then you’ll _have_ to admit you _like_ me.” Catra sighs exasperatedly. Adora grins at that. 

"Who said anything about you being _my_ soulmate just because you have that stupid tattoo?" Catra slings her arm over Adora's shoulders. "Hate to break it to you, Force Captain, but I'm not interested." 

"Oh yeah?" Adora asks, sliding her arm around Catra's waist. 

"Obviously," Catra laughs. 

They stand like that for a moment. "Come on," Catra says, eyes bright. "There's something I gotta show you."

It's a party. Catra organized it herself: their friends, gray ration bars, everything. "Not interested, huh?" Adora crosses her arms. 

"Get over yourself."

As reality falls apart, the tattoo glitches more. When Adora remembers the tattoo never actually existed, she cries to herself. It made sense in this reality; it would make sense in any reality. She thought she had come to terms with her destiny as She-Ra, heroic and without a soulmate. To lose this tie to Catra is far worse. She wants to take it back with her.

After she manages to get Catra out of the Fright Zone, they fight until Catra backs away, ears flattening in remembrance. She doesn't need to say anything, Adora understands. Carefully, Catra walks towards her, taking her left hand. Gingerly, Adora rolls up her sleeve. _Catra_ glitches, comes back, and glitches again. Upon its final return, Catra traces her own name with her fingertips; it sends shivers down Adora's spine.

"Why is this here now? When it wasn't before?" Catra asks accusingly, as if Adora had control over this.

"I don't know," Adora admits, trying to blink back tears. "But mark or not, I'm not going to leave you behind again," she promises. 

"Why can't you just stay? We have everything we've ever wanted." 

Adora wants to tell her she wishes the tattoo were real, almost more than anything. Mostly she wants Catra to believe that she wants her, even without it. She always has. 

“This isn’t real, Catra,” Adora ends up saying, her voice cracking. 

When Catra falls into the purple light, the tattoo disappears. It doesn't come back.

And it seems like a cruel joke, to see actual stars in Etheria's sky, with Catra gone. It's a reminder that Adora can't have both. 

* * *

On the morning of Catra’s nineteenth birthday, she has a nightmare. Adora, not She-Ra, steps out of a portal. “Why did you do it?” she yells. Awake or not, Catra doesn’t have an answer. She wakes up breathing heavily, more afraid of herself and what she's capable of than Adora's righteous anger. She rubs her hands over her eyes before she notices the cursive on her right wrist. Bold and permanent: _Adora_. It has to be a cosmic joke. Catra doesn't want it on her body, she wants to scratch it off her skin, or burn it, or scream. 

None of this makes sense. Soulmate tattoos weren't supposed to be real, for one thing. The second Catra saw Adora's bare skin, she figured she'd be unmarked as well. If Adora didn't have a soulmate, Catra didn't want one either. 

She considers it would be different if they were still in the portal world, matching. But they aren't, and it's too late for reconciliation, Catra's positive. It's too presumptuous to assume that Adora would be willing to forgive her just because her name is on her wrist now. Catra's not sure she wants Adora's forgiveness anyway, she's not sure she deserves it.

Catra decides not to get rid of the tattoo, not yet anyway, but she won't let anyone know either. Especially Adora. Having already cut off her hair tufts, she dons a long black sleeve to cover her tattoo, figuring she might as well go all out with a new look.

She goes to sulk in the only open place in the Fright Zone. Part of her wishes she never told Adora about the lookout, that it was only hers and never theirs. That way it wouldn't remind her of all the hours spent together, talking stars and futures. The red sky seemed softer back then. Now it leaves her agitated, and the moons have never looked so lonely.

Scorpia finds her there, somehow managing to bring several gray ration bars to split. It's a poor attempt to celebrate, but ever since Scorpia found out that in _some_ places, birthdays are a big deal, Catra appreciates the small gesture. She's not in the mood for anything else.

Besides, Scorpia is older and has probably known about soulmate tattoos for longer. She can't exactly ask Hordak about them. 

“Can I ask you something?” Catra asks, interrupting Scorpia's spiel about how the brown ration bars are actually more nutritious.

“Anything,” Scorpia says.

Catra takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. She's Hordak's second in command; she can destroy Etherian cities and have an awkward conversation with one of her only remaining friends. "If you knew I wasn't your soulmate, why did you ask me out?" 

"Whoa, you know, _that_ is getting deeply personal, wildcat."

"Just, I don't _get_ this whole soulmate thing." Catra groans. "Forget it, there's a reason the Horde didn't bother to teach us about this stuff."

Surprisingly, Scorpia sits quietly, for a moment. "I don't know the woman written on my pincer, Catra. And it seems, I don’t know, a little archaic to bind yourself to someone you might never even meet. My moms- they had other women's names. But they still chose each other.”

“Oh,” Catra says, blinking. She didn't know Scorpia had two mothers. All she knows about her history is that the Horde took over her family's territory. Scorpia mentions it good humoredly, but Catra knows it was a lot more daunting than Scorpia lets on. “How did that work out?”

“They loved each other,” Scorpia says gravely, “till the very end.”

Love isn't a word heard in the Fright Zone very often. It's probably never been uttered since the Horde took over. Catra doesn’t have the appetite for ration bars anymore. 

* * *

The stars in Etheria's sky mark loss, not victory. They remind Adora that she failed. She failed to destroy the sword in time, she failed Glimmer, Bow, Mara, and all of Etheria. The spaceships hovering in the flickering sky prove that. Prime found them. And Glimmer's gone.

So are the moons, they're replaced by smaller ones. Adora imagines Catra looking for them, resenting her for taking them away. She must be somewhere in the Fright Zone, gloating over the Rebellion's defeat. 

Their last interaction didn't go so well. Catra had the higher ground, looking down at her like she knew she could get away with anything, as if she had never set off the portal in the first place. Because she was Adora's soulmate once, it was something that could be used against her. Adora was frustrated that it was working: Catra knew she looked good with her new hair, her revealing top, her grin.

"I thought I'd have to capture _another_ village just to get your attention," Catra had said, smirking. 

Adora wanted to say, "So that means you _want_ my attention?" But she didn't, distracted by noticing the long black sleeve Catra wore, concealing her wrist. It meant that Catra had a soulmate, and Adora didn't.

"Having any luck finding that soulmate of yours?" Adora had asked.

"Oh, Adora," she laughed, "who says I haven't found her already?"

It stung. 

And Adora hasn't seen her since.

All she can do is fight for Etheria. She knows her home planet is out there somewhere; it could be one of the lights that blinks down at her. But it could also be gone, Light Hope could have grabbed her from any moment in time. Besides, the First Ones aren't who she thought they were. Etheria is her home, and even with She-Ra gone, she knows she can't stop fighting. 

* * *

Space is beautiful, Catra discovers. And sad. Catra's used to loneliness, but not the silence. There was always something clanging on the steel in the Fright Zone. Or footsteps. Or whispers.

Perched on a windowsill, she rolls up her sleeve, checking to see that _Adora_ is still there, proof that there is more to this world than the eerie hunk of technology she can't escape. Adora has no clue that Catra is out here, looking at stars. And galaxies. And whatever. It haunts her. 

Looking back, she's not sure Adora ever knew that she _wanted_ to believe her, about the stars. It was a nice idea, but there were a lot of things she didn't believe in. Like soulmates, or promises once they were so willfully broken. Now it's too late to say anything. Catra doesn't see the point of wishing she could go back. Adora had offered her a chance, over and over again. But Catra was spiteful, unrelenting, too proud to fall for it. She's paid the price.

Catra's more tired, than anything. Tired of replaying her mistakes, how she drove away everyone who once cared about her. How she even got Adora to hate her. That's the reason she can't sleep anymore.

There's an ironic solace in Glimmer, they're all the other has on this ship. Catra's aware that Glimmer's a prisoner and doesn't have anywhere else to go, but she's touched that Glimmer asks her to stay. To her own surprise, she does. They have their routine, sitting back to back. It's easier to talk freely this way, not having to face each other.

Glimmer asks about what Adora used to be like. Catra smiles as she tells her. It's Adora they have in common, Adora would want them to get along. 

When Catra finds out Adora left Glimmer behind too, Catra understands why Glimmer sought out Light Hope and balanced the planet. She would have done the exact same thing. 

“We were fighting, before Prime took me. I’d do anything to make things right,” Glimmer confesses. “Bow’s my soulmate,” she says, stifling a sob. “And I never told him."

This resonates with Catra. It's a little reassuring to hear that even the Queen of Bright Moon has hidden her wrist from the world, it makes her more of a person than a magical being.

"I couldn't even tell Adora, because, you know." 

Catra does know Adora's sensitivities towards the tattoos. She saw the look in Adora's eyes when she said she'd already found her soulmate. It was a low blow, even for her. But Catra had been determined to hide the truth, even if part of her wanted to take it back that second. "I'm looking right at her," she could've said. "Duh."

Glimmer presses to find out what Catra would be doing on Etheria right now. But it doesn't matter. If she were there, Adora wouldn't be with her. Neither would Entrapta, or Scorpia; even Double Trouble would be long gone.

“There’s nothing left for me on Etheria,” Catra says dismissively, standing up.

“Adora told me about the portal,” Glimmer says. “About how, in that reality, she had a tattoo with _your_ name." Glimmer pauses. "She also told me that she wanted it to be real."

Catra recognizes Glimmer's hesitation, unsure if she'd be betraying Adora by telling her, or by withholding this information. It's an honesty Catra can't return. 

“So what?” Catra asks. “It _wasn’t_ real.”

“Catra,” Glimmer whispers, “can I see your wrist?”

“I don’t think so, Sparkles,” she whispers back, and walks away.

She ends up showing Glimmer as she saves her. "I'm not doing this for you," Catra explains, rolling up her sleeve. Glimmer's eyes are remorseful, as if she had already known. Princesses are annoying that way. "You can't tell her, no matter what happens to me," Catra adds. "After everything I've done- she can't know."

Prime tells her that the ship turned around. Catra processes this news in a daze. The adrenaline rush is over, leaving her cold and shaky. For the first time, Catra is relieved that Adora left her behind. It means Prime can't touch her; it means Adora will be safe. She laughs at Prime, spits at his feet. The tattoos don't matter, they never have. Adora is all that matters.

* * *

Adora has seen visions of Horde Prime in her nightmares, but he's a lot more frightening in person. He talks and moves slowly, as if time doesn't matter to him. And then she learns that it doesn't. It's sick. She's never seen someone so devoid of emotion, a living being so still. Her blood boils once he starts talking about Catra, referring to her as, "Your Catra," as if she's an object. She supposes that everyone is an object to him, another piece to his empire.

"In the end it didn't bother her, you know," Prime says, cool as steel. "She was so devoted to you she didn't care she wasn't your soulmate. She thought the real reason you didn't have a tattoo was because she's the one who severed your future together. She thought _she'd_ be your demise. And she was right, for here you are."

Adora can't act brave any longer, her narrow eyes widen in alarm. There's no way what Prime is saying can be true. Adora doesn't _have_ a soulmate, therefore she can't be Catra's. That's how it works, isn't it?

Prime looks down at her, curious, like she's a specimen. His bottom eye blinks. “You really didn’t know? It doesn't matter now, I’ve freed her from that pain. How terrible, soulmates are. Only a primitive planet such as Etheria could be so cruel towards its own people."

“I don’t believe you,” Adora says, her voice wavering against her control.

“Ah, then I’ll show you.”

Catra's still alive, but it's not her. This Catra has green eyes and short hair. Adora's horrified. Catra's always been tongue and teeth and blood; this Catra is rigid, smiling at her like a ghost. She has no respect for boundaries either, stepping closer, right wrist facing her. Adora reads her own name.

"See, Adora?" Catra says, forcing Adora's hand over the tattoo. It's a violation, she knows the real Catra has no say in this. "You belong here with me. We can live together under Horde Prime's light." Adora flinches. Catra's touch was certainly not always soft, but this touch is stiff. There's no warmth in her skin.

Prime leaves to give them space; it's his greatest mistake. Catra's still in there, and Adora will find her. She's not leaving until she does. Catra's nails dig deep, deeper than she knew she was capable of. She can handle the claws in her back, she can't handle the sound of Catra's wrist snapping, and her screams when electricity attacks the chip on her neck.

And she can't handle Catra's fragile voice when she asks, "Why did you come back for me? We both know I don't matter."

It breaks her heart. Adora vows to never fail Catra again. "You matter to me," she affirms gently. Catra offers her a weak smile.

When she falls, Adora jumps after. She doesn't think twice. 

Adora cradles Catra in her arms, pulls her closer, sobbing. It's not fair, for Catra to return to her after all this time, dying. It doesn't matter, the tattoos. Prime called them cruel, and maybe they are. How terrible it is, that she once thought she had to be marked to be able to love someone. She and Catra had been intertwined long before either had heard of soulmates.

Catra's still breathing, but it's faint. She doesn't have much time. Adora can't hear what it is Prime tells her through his clones, there's something burning inside of her.

* * *

"Adora," Catra says on the spaceship. She feels naked, and she might as well be. Her hair has been shorn, she's in her undergarments, and there's no sleeve to cover up her tattoo. She's aware Adora has seen it, and she is also aware that Adora is too polite to bring it up. "Please stay," she begs, ears lowered. With her left hand she reaches out to Adora. She flips her right hand over, so Adora can see it. She looks down, feeling Adora staring at her, and the name on her wrist. 

"Catra," she says, voice thick. 

It's a lot to take on, Catra realizes. Adora never asked for this, and she doesn't know how to apologize. For the tattoo she had no say in, and every act she had control over. They both know she could have left the Horde at any time if she wanted to. But she didn't. She let her anger fester, nearly destroying her, almost destroying any chance they had at making amends. That knowledge takes up the breathing room between them, but it doesn't make breathing impossible. 

"I know you've seen the tattoo. I'm tired of hiding." Catra swallows. She glances up, Adora's blushing. 

"I'll stay with you," Adora says. Her eyes are kinder than they have any right to be. 

Entrapta coughs, reminding them they're not alone, and Catra blushes too, releasing Adora's hand.

"Let's get this started," Entrapta says. Catra nods, hoping that her recorder has been turned off. 

Back on Etheria, Catra finds out how delicious it is to have the sun on her neck. It's never touched her there before. She loves leaving her arms bare and bold, no longer caring about what anyone else has to say about the tattoo. She can still hear them when they think they're out of earshot, asking the same thing: why Catra has one when Adora doesn't. Princesses are _weird_ , but that's nothing new. They all wear long sleeved shirts, armbands, or gloves, to cover their own tattoos. Even Adora with nothing to hide wears the same long sleeves during day and night. At least Catra isn't keeping it hidden from Adora anymore. So what if everyone else knows, it's not their business.

Perfuma is the only one besides Adora to bring it up directly. "Scorpia is my friend," she insists as she removes her right armband, revealing Scorpia's name. Catra resists the urge to say Scorpia is definitely more than a friend. "I think you're very brave, by the way," Perfuma says, gesturing to Catra's tattoo. "You make me want to be brave, too." Catra notices that Perfuma doesn't put her armband back on. She meant it earlier, that Scorpia is lucky. 

Adora walks over to them, and Perfuma giggles as she walks away.

"What was that about?" Adora asks.

"What was what about?" Catra asks, playing dumb. It rarely works on Adora- she bumps into her shoulder like they're still cadets in the Fright Zone. Catra laughs. Classic Adora. "You know, just because you're my soulmate doesn't mean I like you, right?"

"Yeah, _okay_ ," Adora replies, grinning that stupid grin of hers, until Melog licks her face.

"Just because you're my soulmate doesn't mean I have to stand by and watch you destroy yourself," Catra ends up telling her, in the woods. It's the one thing she can say that Adora can't fight her on. It hurts to say, but it hurts more to watch Adora fall into Shadow Weaver's traps. Most of all, it hurts that Adora will still choose anything over her, saying it's her destiny to do so. 

* * *

Prime tells Adora she has no future, and she believes it. She's come to accept the truth about why she doesn't have a soulmate marker. It's not because she's a First One, it's because she won't live long enough. She's prepared to die if it means everyone she cares about will live. The magic will be released and save everybody. 

And then Catra finds her in that dark green place, hand out, reaching for her. She should have known that Catra would never give up. Adora tries to tell her it's too late, and that she's sorry. But Catra's always been stubborn and demanding, she won't listen.

"Don't you get it? I love you, I always have!" Catra shouts. 

Adora remembers what it's like to live. And she wants it. Her eyes flutter open, the Heart of Etheria is humming above them. "You love me?" she asks. 

Catra looks away, calls her an idiot. Typical Catra.

"I love you, too," Adora says. She means it as, "I choose you." 

Catra looks at her so softly, Adora almost wonders if she's still dreaming. She leans in, and Adora knows this is real.

Catra kisses her. It's healing. 

* * *

There's a celebration that night. Catra gets a new suit, and stands on a Bright Moon balcony, waiting for Adora to finish getting dressed. Catra sighs as she looks up at the new night sky. She misses the moons she grew up with. And it's dumb, she thinks, that she didn't get to say goodbye to them, even though they're celestial forces that couldn't say bye back. But she doesn't blame Adora. She wishes she could go back to that one night in the Horde, and say, "I believe you, one day you'll see stars again, and I'll say 'I love you' and you’ll say it back." The thought makes her smile, they've come so far since then.

"Hey, are you okay?" Adora asks from behind her.

"Yeah," Catra answers, eyes fixed on the stars.

"Do you miss the moons?" 

Catra doesn't answer. She doesn't know how to express that yes, she misses them, but she wouldn't trade them for this new life. Not with Adora by her side, pointing out each new star she finds. 

"I miss them too," Adora admits. "Well, mostly I miss looking at them with you."

Catra laughs at that. "It's a change I can get used to."

She turns around to face Adora. And _wow_. She's seen the red dress before, but her hair looks different. Yellow and bright, she's wearing it down in a style Catra's never seen. Adora's radiant, she always has been. But she hasn't always looked at Catra like _that_ , like there are stars in her eyes.

And then, Catra realizes, there's a _glow_ to Adora. "You're glowing," Catra says, like an idiot. 

"Duh," Adora laughs. "I'm She-Ra."

"You're not She-Ra now," Catra says, gesturing to the light emitting from Adora's left wrist. It's the same shine as the stars. " _Look_."

Adora looks down. Catra makes eye contact with Adora, asking if it's okay. Adora nods. Catra carefully holds her hand, eyes narrowed in concentration. It's a First Ones' sigil. 

"What's it say?" Catra asks. 

"Catra," Adora whispers.

"Tell me!" Catra says impatiently.

Adora kisses her instead. It's their second kiss, and they take their time. There's no rush now, the world has already been saved. This moment is all theirs. Adora gently places both hands on her cheeks, deepening the kiss. Catra forgets what it means to breathe, but she doesn't care. She breaks it once she tastes salt- Adora's crying. 

"Are you okay?"

"You were right, back at the Waste," Adora grins. "It turns out First Ones do have soulmates." Catra blinks at her once. Twice. "Catra, it's your name."

Catra's eyes widen, she wasn't expecting that. She liked that Adora chose her without a tattoo. But then again, she chose Adora too. She composes herself, putting her hand on her hip. 

"I cannot believe," Catra says pointedly, "that First Ones are somehow more dramatic when it comes to soulmate identifiers."

"What do you mean?" Adora asks. 

"You guys can't just have a regular tattoo," Catra elaborates. "You have to have one that _glows_ in the dark and only comes out under starlight. Like, is cursive not fancy enough?"

Adora laughs. "Sounds like you're jealous," Adora says, crossing her arms.

"Are you kidding me? This is even dumber!" Catra says defensively. "Why are you First Ones so weird?"

Adora raises an eyebrow. "You know I'm your only frame of reference, right."

"Exactly," Catra says. 

"Huh," Adora says. "And for a second there I thought you'd be excited to find out that you are my soulmate, officially."

Catra shrugs. "You know I was never really one for following the rules. Kind of takes the fun out of it now that we're matching." 

"Oh yeah?" Adora asks, smiling knowingly.

"Yeah." Catra glances away, old habits are hard to break. She looks back at Adora. "I like your hair down."

Adora's cheeks flush a little. "Thanks, so do I." She stares at Catra's outfit. "You need help tying that bowtie?" 

There's a lot of things Catra considers saying in response, it's hard to let go of being defensive. Instead, she says, "Can you just kiss me again?"

Adora grins.

**Author's Note:**

> do i think the concept of soulmates are problematic? yes. did i write this? also yes. i took a "which fanfic trope are you quiz" and got soulmates... and knew i had to write one about catra and adora. i had a lot of fun exploring their dynamic if soulmate identifiers existed in the she ra universe
> 
> [catra does have a first ones' sigil](https://she-raandtheprincessesofpower.fandom.com/wiki/First_Ones_writing?file=Catra_Sigil.png) if you want to see what that looks like
> 
> the title comes from "show yourself" from frozen 2... sometimes i think about adora being a first one and get sad 
> 
> i am aware that pre-s5 etheria doesn't have a sun (it's all moons apparently) and that adora and catra probably don't know their actual birthdays. but it's my fic so i get choose the coping mechanism! 
> 
> also i think noelle tweeted about lonnie/rogelio/kyle... which is why lonnie gets two tattoos
> 
> thank you for reading! it's my first fic in years it feels good to be so inspired by a piece of media again
> 
> feel free to hit me up on [tumblr](http://4afs.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/4af_s) i cannot stop thinking about catradora


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